


Reach Out

by sincerelymendacious



Category: Psychonauts (Video Games)
Genre: Bad Dreams, Friendship, Gen, Premonitions, Who needs help, inspired by a Hanson song: I will come to you, reaching out to a friend, tw: Abusive parents, tw: anxiety, tw: depression, tw: suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 13:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelymendacious/pseuds/sincerelymendacious
Summary: Crystal wakes up feeling weird. She can't shake the feeling that she's about to lose her best friend forever. Is her brain just playing pranks on her again, or is something actually wrong? She'll need to contact Clem if she wants to find out!





	Reach Out

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks goes out to the good folks at the Psychowhatsits discord server for helping me write this! Particularly to Kai and Pond Scum, whose input helped me immensely!

"I thought you stopped doing this," Mom said as she frowned down at Crystal from the foot of the bed. She smoothed her hands over her robe, disapproval in both her gaze and tone.

Crystal blinked as she sat up, the question 'stop doing what?' on the tip of her rather dry tongue. She had been awoken by her mother sharply calling her name, and was still a bit dazed with sleep. Then she registered two things- the rustled state of her sheets and blankets and a light throbbing at the back of her head. "Was I shaking the bed?" Crystal asked, rubbing at the spot that hurt the most.

Mom's lips thinned out into a tight line. "You were," she answered, tucking a strand of deep magenta hair behind her ear.

Crystal looked away in shame, twisting her unicorn-print blanket between her fingers. "Sorry," she said, her shoulders slumping. She was disappointed in herself. The last time she had shaken her bed had been when she was seven, and she thought she'd gotten over this particular sleep disturbance. "Are the floors okay?"

"They're no worse than they were before," Mom replied. "I suppose it's a good thing your father said no to putting new flooring in, considering the circumstances."

Crystal breathed a small sigh of relief. The hard-wood flooring around the legs of her bed was covered in scratches, as a result of her telekinesis violently moving her bed back and forth while she slept. Explaining them to her friends when they came over was always an embarrassing ordeal. She dared to raise her gaze and repeated her apology. "I'm sorry, Mom." There was a slight tremble in her voice. "I didn't mean to do it."

Mom's expression gentled significantly at the show of remorse. "Oh, Crystal," she said as she quickly moved to Crystal's side, her slippers making muffled thumps on the floor. "I know you didn't." She settled next to her on the bed and took Crystal's face between her hands, the squeeze bordering on painful. "You're doing your best." She tilted Crystal's head up so that her eyes could bore into Crystal's, their vibrant blue shade a mirror of her daughter's. "But you need to do better."

"I know, Mom," Crystal replied, the press of the hands around her face making her words sound strange. "I'll, um, try harder. I promise."

Mom smiled warmly as she bent forward to kiss Crystal's forehead. "If you can't control yourself, you can always rely on God to help you." Her hands fell away from Crystal's face and began running through her long, undone hair. "You have been saying your prayers, right?" she asked, her fingers snagging on a tangle.

Crystal winced as her mother pulled to free herself from the knot. "Um…" she said, her gaze falling to the gold cross that hung around Mom's neck. She never saw Mom without it, and sometimes Crystal wondered if she slept with it on. "Yes!" she answered, perhaps a little too forcefully.

"Good." Mom patted her on the shoulder. "Because it will be obvious if you aren't." She rose from the bed and began making her way to the door. "You may as well get up now. Make your bed and get dressed. Breakfast will be ready soon." Mom issued these orders without once looking back at Crystal, not pausing until she reached the door, whereupon she gave the room a quick once-over. "And clean up a little in here, why don't you?" she said, pointing at a skirt that was half off of its hanger in the closet. "The floors are enough of mess; the rest of this room doesn't have to be that way." With that final command, she turned and left, closing the door as she departed.

Crystal remained in her bed, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes. Something was gnawing at her; a feeling that she had forgotten something important. It wasn't her prayers, since she still said those every night, even though Clem, her very best friend in the whole world, said that praying was basically useless. Clem didn't believe in God or the devil, or in Heaven or Hell, and he was the first person she had ever known who didn't go to church every Sunday. "There isn't anyone up there watching over your every move," Clem had explained to her early on in their acquaintance. "God was made up by people who couldn't handle the inherent meaninglessness of the world." His words, even now, were both scary and oddly comforting- if there was no one 'up there,' than there was nobody that could help Crystal control her power the way everyone wanted her to, and nobody to turn to when her brain ached in a way that didn't hurt, but made her want to cry like it did. But on the other hand, if there was no God, than there was no Hell that he could send her to for being the kinda, sorta not-good person she suspected herself to be, and there was something freeing in the idea of that.

As she thought of Clem, something in her mind clicked. Whatever it was she had forgotten must have had something to do with him. She tried to picture him in her head; thought of his buck-toothed smile, the way he waved at her whenever she approached, how he moved when he cheered and the look of desperation he would give her sometimes, as though pleading for something that would make everything better. Try as she might, she could not get a hold of the thing she needed to remember, no matter how far back she reached into her memories. The last time they'd spoken had been last week over the phone, but Crystal couldn't recall the finer details of the conversation, only remembering that Clem had said that he was going to try out for field hockey but didn't expect to make the team.

Crystal struggled to figure out what this very important thing she had forgotten was for a few minutes before giving up and getting out of bed. She set herself to work completing the chores Mom had assigned to her. _Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with Clem, _Crystal thought as she sorted out her closet, _maybe I just forgot about a school thing, and Mom will remind me. _She wanted very badly to believe that, but nervousness kept nibbling at her mind. She felt, inexplicably, that if she did not remember this very important thing, that something terrible would happen, a terrible thing that would make her miserable for the rest of her life. _My brain is playing tricks on me, _she assured herself as she left her room.

She arrived at the breakfast table and seated herself next to her father, hoping that either he or Mom would remind her of something. Anything that would relieve this anxiety, even something like a book report that was due this very day. But when Dad turned to look at her, all he said was "you were shaking your bed this morning."

Crystal sank into her chair, not in the mood to eat the oatmeal Mom placed before her. "Yeah…" she admitted quietly.

"Hm. Thought you stopped doing that," Dad remarked blandly before turning his attention back to the business page.

"Crystal, eat your breakfast," Mom ordered as she sat down to join them.

Crystal sighed and stuck her spoon into her food. _Dam- darn it, _she thought as she brought the spoon to her mouth, the taste of lumpy oats not helping her mood any.

* * *

"You might be confused," Clem was saying to her, shifting so that his gym bag was more comfortably situated on his shoulder, "when you've found out what I've done."

Crystal was already confused. How could Clem be standing here in front of her when he was supposed to be all the way in Indiana? And hadn't she just been in her classroom, listening to Mr. MacDougal talk about multiplying fractions? What was she doing out here, sitting in what looked like a bus stop? She didn't even know where she was- the boarded up buildings across the street were unfamiliar to her, and if she was still in Peoria than it was in a part of town she'd never been to. She wrung her hands as she took in her strange surroundings, the heavy fog that covered the area making her uneasy. "Clem, what's happening? Where are we?"

"You might think that it was your fault," Clem continued, as though he hadn't heard her questions. "That you could have done something to stop me." He was facing her but his eyes weren't locked onto her at all. It was like he was looking through her instead of at her. "But no, you couldn't have. You did everything you could to make my world brighter. I didn't deserve the light you brought into my life."

Crystal's breath caught in her throat, her unease flaring up into alarm. What did he mean by that? Stop him from doing what? "Clem, I-" She swallowed, her confusion and worry stopping her from forming a proper sentence. "What...huh? I don't...I don't know what's going on!"

Again he kept talking like she hadn't spoken. Couldn't he hear her? "You might feel hurt. Like I betrayed you or something. And maybe I did." He sounded so strange right now. His words were sad, and they were definitely scaring Crystal, but his tone was cold and lifeless, like he wasn't feeling anything at all. "But this isn't about you. I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you."

"I know you wouldn't, Clem," Crystal said, her voice barely above a whisper. She noticed that his hands were twisting the straps of his gym bag in an odd manner, looping the strings around his middle and index fingers so tightly that they were turning red. The motions only added to her anxiety, so she forced herself to look away.

If Clem noticed, he didn't show it, because he continued to speak in that unnerving, inflectionless tone. Her gaze slid over to a poster stuck on the glass, providing a welcome distraction from her friend's awful, incomprehensible speech. There were no words on it, just an image of a person with their arms around their knees and their head bent forward in a way that obscured their face. They were wearing a yellow t-shirt and green shorts, their feet clad in black and white converse sneakers. Those were Clem's clothes, she realized, the same clothes he'd been wearing the last time she had seen him and the same clothes he was wearing right now on this strange, lonely street they had both been transported to.

"It's kind of funny, isn't it?"

Crystal's attention snapped back to Clem at the question, though he did not appear to expect a response from her. "You're the only person I didn't want this to hurt. But I think you're the only one who's going to be hurt by what I'm planning to do. How about that irony, huh? Ha-ha." The laugh was so utterly devoid of joy that it was not really a laugh at all, just a noise that he was making.

Crystal didn't find it funny and she told him so. "Please," she pleaded, tears gathering in her eyes, "tell me what's going on. What are you planning to do, Clem?"

"I can't do it anymore, Crystal," Clem said.

"Can't do what?" Crystal blurted out. Why couldn't he just give her a straight answer?

"Believe me, I've tried," Clem said. "I tried to stick around, you know? If not for myself, then for you. But I just can't do it anymore, Crystal. I'm sorry."

"Stick around? What?" Crystal tried to stand, wanting to go over to her friend and shake a proper answer to her questions out of him, but found that she could not. She was stuck in her seat, like she had sat in a pile of glue. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked as she struggled to free herself. "Where?"

"I'm going, Crystal," Clem replied, the non-answer making her want to cry in frustration. "I know we agreed to abandon the project, but I can't stand the thought of living through one crushing failure after another." He shook his head. "It's too much. I'd rather just exit stage left. Close the curtain on my pathetic sham of an existence."

"Clem-" The rest of Crystal's sentence was cut off by the sudden arrival of a bus, emerging suddenly from out of the fog. It came to a halt in front of the stop, the door opening up with an eerie screech. There was nothing beyond the door, the steps leading up into an inky blackness. A cold shiver of dread went down Crystal's spine, and she was struck with the certainty that if Clem boarded that bus, she would never see him again. "Clem!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, hoping that the increased volume of her voice would be enough to reach him. "Please! Don't get on that bus!" Tears ran down her cheeks, and she leaned forward as far as her trapped body would allow her to. "Don't leave me here by myself!"

Her pleas had no effect on Clem. "I love you Crystal," he said, taking a step backward. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the friend an amazing girl like you deserves. Don't waste too many tears on me, alright? It's better this way." Then he turned on his heel, the movement matching the way he used to twirl at camp, and climbed onto the bus, ignoring Crystal's desperate screams for him to come back. His body disappeared into the darkness, the bus' doors closing on him with a very final sounding slam.

* * *

And then Crystal was back in her classroom, face pressed against her desk and her teacher shaking her awake. "Crystal!" Mr. MacDougal said, his voice loud but not sharp with anger or annoyance. "Wake up, Crystal!"

Slowly, Crystal sat up, blinking blearily as the world came back into focus. "Huh?" she said, brushing away a strand of hair stuck to her mouth. Heat rushed to her face when she realized that everyone was staring at her. Some of her peers looked to be on the verge of giggles while others were regarding her with perplexed irritation. Only a few of them-her friends, mostly- showed any kind of concern.

"Are you okay?" Mr. MacDougal asked, his brows knitting together as he took his hand off of her shoulder.

She wasn't- her heart was pounding and she was still very unsettled by what she had seen in her dream-but she said she was fine anyway, since she didn't want anyone to call her a baby for being scared by a dream. "I'm sorry for disrupting class," she said, embarrassed.

Larry Hutchins interrupted whatever it was that Mr. MacDougal was going to say next. "You were talking in your sleep!" he yelled, always happy to have an opportunity to poke fun at another classmate. "You were all like 'don't go! Don't leave me!'" The class laughed at the falsetto he used to imitate her voice.

"Shut up, Larry!" Tamika Williams, the girl who sat on Crystal's right, snapped. She turned to Crystal, her smile reassuring. "You weren't that loud."

"She was also snoring!" Larry continued, not wanting to lose everyone's attention now that he had it. "Like this!" He tipped his head back and pretended to snore obnoxiously.

"She was drooling too!" Jacob Reid added helpfully. Crystal cringed, sinking into her seat as far as she could, wanting very much to disappear. Unfortunately, she'd never been very good at invisibility.

"Enough!" Mr. MacDougal barked sternly, ending the mockery before it could escalate further. "Let's get back to the lesson, now! Those fractions aren't going to multiply themselves!" He gave Larry and Jacob a look that promised swift retribution should they start up their teasing again before proceeding back to the whiteboard.

Class went on like it normally did from there, though Crystal had difficulty paying attention. Part of it was because she had missed a good chunk of the lesson while sleeping, but most of it was because there was an awful feeling pulsing in her stomach, one that made her fidget at her desk and bite her lip nervously. She'd been antsy all day trying to remember the thing she had supposedly 'forgotten' and the strange dream only made everything worse. Her brain, she realized, was trying to tell her something, which, in and of itself, was not out of the ordinary, for it frequently told her things about herself; most of them not very pleasant. The strange thing was that it was trying to tell her something about another person; she could not recall it ever doing that before.

It seemed to her that her brain was trying to warn her about Clem's imminent departure, though it could not tell her where he was going or why, or, for that matter, why the idea of him leaving his home for this mystery destination should give her such a feeling of dread. _People take trips all the time,_ she thought as she willed her hand to copy down the notes about the American Revolution that Mr. MacDougal had put on the whiteboard. _He could be coming to see me!_ As much as she would have loved that, she could not quite bring herself to believe that this was the case. The Clem in her dream had made it very clear that he was leaving everyone and everything he knew behind, and that, sadly, included her.

Crystal continued to sit and squirm and worry up until the bell that signaled the end of the school day rang. "Alright, everyone," Mr. MacDougal said as Crystal and her classmates began gathering up their things. "You don't have to read the next chapter of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but you're really missing out if you don't. Crystal, can I speak to you for a bit after class?"

Crystal nodded, suspecting that the request had something to do with her falling asleep during math. She rose and walked over to his desk to wait, rocking back and forth on her heels as he bid the other students farewell. Was she going to get yelled at? She wasn't sure. Mr. MacDougal was much nicer than the teacher she'd had last year, who had always looked at Crystal as though she was up to no good, and had always made her take her tests out in the hallway. Still, she could not help but be instinctively on edge, and when he joined her at his desk she immediately apologized again. "I'm sorry I fell asleep in class," she said as he sat down.

"It's okay, Crystal," Mr. MacDougal replied, giving her a warm smile. He had kind eyes, she thought, a little more at ease. "You're not in any trouble." He gestured at the chair next to his desk and she settled herself into it, putting her book bag on the floor. "I'm just a little worried about you, that's all. I know that math isn't the most exciting subject, but it's not like you to fall asleep like that."

"Oh!" She was surprised that he sounded so concerned, since her previous teachers probably would have given her detention by now. Maybe it was because he was so young. Tamika had told her that he was only twenty-four, so perhaps he could remember how hard school could be sometimes when you aren't very good at anything. "I'm fine, really!" she insisted. "I guess I was just a little tired." But had she been? Now that she thought of it, she couldn't recall feeling sleepy at any point in the day.

Mr. MacDougal nodded, giving a wordless noise in response. He clasped his hands together and then unclasped them and lay them flat on his desk. "It's just.." he paused, flattened his lips for a second, and then continued. "You seemed a bit distressed when you woke up. And I noticed that afterward you were still upset."

Crystal's cheeks flushed. "Oh gee," she muttered, slapping her palm to her forehead. "I really was talking in my sleep, huh?"

"A little bit," Mr. MacDougal said.

"Sorry."

"No, no." Mr. MacDougal leaned forward to give her a quick pat on the shoulder. "You don't need to be sorry, Crystal. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here for you if want to talk about it. Or, if not me, there's always Mrs. Salzano."

Mrs. Salzano was the guidance counselor and Crystal's prior run-ins with her had not been encouraging. But Mr. MacDougal really seemed like he wanted to help, and it couldn't hurt to tell him about her problem. "I had a dream," she began, "that I was at a bus stop in a place I didn't know, and my best friend Clem was there in front of me." She reached up and began twirling her ponytail between her fingers. "He was talking to me. I don't remember everything he said but it made me really scared and confused." She twisted her hair faster and swallowed. Even just talking about the dream made her chest tighten uncomfortably. "I kept trying to talk back, but it was like he couldn't hear me, no matter how loud I was." Her ponytail was wound as tight around her fingers as they could be, so she tugged to free them. "And then this bus came and he got on it." She looked up at Mr. MacDougal, her eyes wide with the fear she had felt in her dream. "And I was so sure," her voice began to tremble, "that I would never, ever see him again." She sniffed, rubbing at the tears that threatened to fall. "That's when I woke up. Or, when you woke me up, I guess."

"Yikes. That's a pretty scary dream," Mr. MacDougal said sympathetically, passing a box of tissues over to her. Crystal took two gratefully and used them to wipe her eyes and nose. "You must be pretty close to this Clem fellow. Does he go to school here?"

"No, he lives in Indiana," Crystal answered, balling the tissues up in her fist. "We go to camp every summer, and we always have a lot of fun together, even if we aren't very good at the classes!"

"Wow, it's great that you have a friend you get the spend the whole summer with!" Mr. MacDougal said, leaning towards her with interest. "And do you get to see each other at all during the rest of the year?"

"No. I wish we could." The idea of Clem coming to visit her in Peoria made her smile, though she knew such a thing was unlikely. "We write to each other though, and sometimes we talk on the phone if his mom lets him."

"Hm." Mr. MacDougal looked down at his hands and then back up at her. "When was the last time you spoke to Clem?"

"Last week." Crystal thought for a second. "Wednesday, I think."

"How was he?" Mr. MacDougal asked. "Was he having any problems at school or at home?"

Crystal tapped her chin as she recalled the last conversation she'd had with Clem. "He was like he normally is," she said. Clem had been his usual upbeat self, his voice only falling into bitterness maybe twice. "He told me he was gonna try out for field hockey."

"Oh, that's nice. I hope he makes the team." Mr. MacDougal paused again, like he was considering what to say next. Crystal noticed that he did that a lot. Clem had said that most people were thoughtless with their words, but Mr. MacDougal seemed to be the exact opposite. "And what about you?" he asked, "how's everything going for you?"

Crystal shrugged. "I shook the bed this morning."

Mr. MacDougal tilted his head to the side, puzzled. "Shook the bed?"

"Oh, um…" She pinched off a piece of tissue and rolled it between her fingers, her gaze falling to her feet. Mom had always warned her against talking to other people about her sleep problem, and she regretted not listening to her. "Yeah, sometimes my psychic powers activate in my sleep and my bed shakes," she explained, her cheeks flushed pink. "The last time it happened was years ago. I don't know why I did it this morning."

"Jeez. That doesn't sound like a fun way to wake up," Mr. MacDougal said, looking sorry for her.

"It's not," Crystal muttered.

"Do you get in trouble when you, ah, shake the bed?"

Crystal shook her head. "My mom gets annoyed because it wakes her up and scratches the floors. But she doesn't ground me or anything because she knows I can't help it." Sometimes Crystal thought that she would have preferred being grounded to hearing Mom tell her how disappointed she was in Crystal's failure to control herself, but she didn't tell that to Mr. MacDougal.

"Looks like you've been having a rough day, Crystal," Mr. MacDougal said softly, "I'm really sorry about that."

Crystal had to agree with that assessment. "Yeah, I haven't been having a good time so far. But the day isn't over yet!" That's what Clem would have said, and with a smile too, so she gave her teacher a bright grin. "Sometimes my brain makes me feel bad and worry about things for no reason! When that happens I make like a rubber ball and bounce back!" she said mimicking the exact words her dearest friend had used.

Mr. MacDougal smiled back. "I like your spirit, Crystal," he said. "And I want you to know that I'm here for you if your brain ever makes you feel bad. I might not be as cool as Clem, but I'm always willing to lend an ear if you need me to."

Crystal's mouth dropped open in shock. No teacher had ever extended such an offer to her before; in truth, they hadn't seemed to like her all that much. "Wow, thank you! That's so nice!" She beamed, feeling a little better already. Maybe her dream was just a dream, and Clem wasn't actually going anywhere, but if he did, maybe she would be able to turn to Mr. MacDougal for help. "I'm sure that Clem's super-duper alright!" she said, although, the faint hint of uncertainty in her voice contradicted that statement. "I'm just...you know, I said my brain likes to mess with me, and that's what's happening right now!"

"Well, how about this," Mr. MacDougal said, sliding the phone on his desk a little closer to him. "We could give Clem a call just to check up and make sure everything's okay on his end. Maybe if you talk to him your brain will stop making you worry."

Crystal gasped, floored by the generosity being shown her way. "You'd really let me call Clem?" she asked, bouncing in her seat excitedly.

"Sure, I don't see why not! It's not like I pay the school's phone bill." He took the phone off the hook and looked at her expectantly. "What's his number?" Crystal told him, unable to keep the anticipation out of her voice. Mr. MacDougal punched the numbers in and handed the phone over, its cord stretching across his desk.

Crystal took it and held it to her ear, smiling broadly. It rang and rang, and rang again, each unanswered ring flattening out her smile until her lips eventually straightened out into a worried line. Finally, after what Crystal had counted as the eighth ring, somebody with a rough, reedy voice picked up. "Yeah?" the person on the other end greeted gruffly. "This is the Foote residence."

A sour smell that made Crystal wrinkle her nose hit her nostrils, like it had wafted through the phone line. "Um, h-hi," she stammered, thrown off by the strange smell. "It's, uh, Crystal, from camp." The person on the other end made an impatient noise, which only made her tongue clumsier. "I'm, um, you know, Clem's friend. Can I talk to him?"

A loud, derisive snort. "Clem's friend?" the person on the other end (Clem's dad?) said in disbelief. "Didn't know he had any, ha-ha." Huh, he didn't know about her? That struck Crystal as odd, since she had told her parents all about Clem. "Clem's not here," his dad continued. "He's at school. At least he better be."

"Oh, um, well...could you tell him that Crystal called? And that I'd...like to talk, just for a bit?" she requested, twirling the cord nervously around her finger.

Clem's dad told her that he would and then abruptly hung up on her. "He was still at school," Crystal informed Mr. MacDougal as she handed the phone back to him.

Mr. MacDougal took it, cringing a little. "I suppose I should have considered that he'd still be there," he said apologetically.

"That's alright," Crystal replied, getting up from her chair. She was disappointed that she hadn't been able to speak to Clem, but hopeful that his dad would tell him that she wanted to talk to him. "I told his dad to tell him I called, so maybe he'll call me back?"

"I sure hope so." Mr. MacDougal rose as Crystal slipped her book-bag onto her shoulders. "Perhaps you could try again later if he doesn't," he suggested while they walked to the door."If he doesn't call by seven or eight, you could give it another go."

"That's a good idea!" She smiled up at her teacher, thankful for all of his help. "I feel so much better now, Mr. MacDougal! You're the best teacher ever!"

"Aw, thanks Crystal! That's one heck of a review!" He waved as she departed his classroom. "Goodbye Crystal! Good luck with your friend!"

"Bye Mr. MacDougal! I'll see you tomorrow!" Crystal yelled back, heading down the hallway with a spring in her step.

* * *

She walked home feeling much more at ease than when she had left this morning. Although she had not been able to get in contact with Clem, there was a chance that she would be able to do so later, and then she would be able to settle this matter for good. _When Clem hears about this, he'll probably laugh and tell me everything's fine and that I should stop being such a worry-wart_, she thought, skipping up the porch steps to her home. _He knows how silly I get sometimes and he'll say the exact right thing to make me feel better, just like he does at camp!_

She burst into her house, half-expecting to hear the phone ringing in the living room. It was not, and the only thing she heard was her mother chastising her for opening the door so aggressively. "Are you trying to tear the door off its hinges?" she asked snappishly as she emerged from the kitchen, her hands on her hips.

Crystal apologized meekly for her transgression. "Has Clem called?" she asked before she could think better of it.

Mom's already irritated expression darkened. "No, he hasn't," she replied with the tone of subtle disapproval she used whenever Dad did something she did not like. "I would think that even he would only just be arriving home from school now."

Crystal felt a flash of disappointment, even though she knew that her mother had a point. "Could you please let me know if does call?" Crystal asked, looking up at Mom beseechingly.

Mom's frown deepened, but she did not refuse the request. "Fine. But if he calls, make sure you're not on the phone for too long. Mrs. Wilcox and I are in charge of the church bake sale and there are some things I need to discuss with her tonight"

Crystal threw her arms around her mother. "Thanks, Mom! I won't be long, I promise!"

Mom patted her on the back and then pushed her away. "I'm sure you will. Now go on, I know you must have homework to do."

Crystal did, so she headed upstairs to her room to complete it. It was around 3:23 when she sat down at her desk to start on her math assignment. By 4:00 she had only finished one of the ten problems on her worksheet. She tried to concentrate on the fractions, but whenever she started to multiply the numbers before her, questions of a different sort would crop up. What was Clem doing right now? Was he home from school yet? If so, why hadn't he called her? Did his dad forget to tell him she had called? These questions remained as answerless as the problems on her assignment, and as a result her anxieties began to creep into her mind like a snake slithering in through a hole in the fence.

She gave up on her worksheet and picked up the book Mr. MacDougal had assigned the class to read, hoping that it would do a better job of distracting her. Unfortunately, it did not. After a sentence or two of reading, those questions would flow back in again, making it impossible to get into the story at all. Eventually she gave up on that too. She set the book face down on her desk and got up from her chair with the intention of doing...something.

_A dance break might help._ That was what she usually did to clear her head when too many distressing things crowded it. As she was going through her albums (stored in a floral-printed CD binder) however, she reconsidered. _I won't be able to hear the phone ring if I have my music on,_ she realized, and with a sigh, she zipped the binder up and put it back on her bookshelf.

The lack of music didn't make dancing impossible, merely less fun. Crystal decided that it beat going back to her homework, so she went to the middle of her room and began dancing to an imaginary tune. It helped for a little while- being in motion was apparently better for her nerves than sitting down was- but it was not long before thoughts of Clem began to creep back in again. As she shimmied, spun, and skipped, she remembered how she had taught Clem these very same moves back at camp. Clem knew many things, and was always happy to share them with her, but he hadn't known anything about dancing when they first met two years ago. Teaching him had been so much fun, especially since he'd been an enthusiastic student, his long-limbs giving the dance moves a grace that her much shorter arms and legs couldn't match._ If he goes somewhere else,_ Crystal thought as she twirled on her toe, her arms spread out for balance, _who is he going to dance with? Who am I going to dance with? Nobody at camp likes to dance, or cheer…_

Those thoughts were so heavy that they stopped her completely, her arms falling to her sides like they were suddenly made of lead. Her gaze went to the digital clock on the nightstand by her bed. It was now 4:47. Mr. MacDougal had told her to wait until later to call Clem, but she didn't think she could wait for two hours without dissolving into hysterical tears. How bad would it be if she tried to do it now, if only to confirm that he wasn't planning on going somewhere without telling her? The worst that could happen was Clem's dad informing her that she was too late, that Clem had already departed for lands unknown. That would be horrible, but knowing for sure couldn't possibly be worse than this awful uncertainty that was currently torturing her.

She rushed out of her room and down the stairs, for once not caring that Mom did not allow running in the house. In that moment getting to the phone was the most important thing in the world, and Crystal would have broken every rule set forth by her parents if it meant reaching it faster. Though, as it turned out, going a bit slower would have smarter. Mom must have waxed the floors earlier, for her socked feet slid all over the shining wood, and when she entered the living room she lost her balance and fell forward with a loud 'thump.'

Mom, who was sitting on the couch, snapped her head towards the noise, glaring when she saw that the source of it was her daughter. "Crystal!" she said sharply, "how many times have I told you not to run in the house?" She remained seated as Crystal shakily brought herself up from the floor. "You'll be doing the dishes after dinner tonight!"

Crystal stood, ignoring the ache in her elbows and knees. "Sorry, Mom," she said without any real feeling of remorse, her focus still on calling Clem. "I just really need to use the phone…" It was not until she said the words that she noticed that it was cradled between Mom's ear and shoulder. "May I use it when you're done?"

Mom's face twisted in a way that made Crystal's heart sink. "Betty, please excuse me for a moment. I need to speak with my daughter," she said into the phone with a deadly calm that did not bode well for Crystal at all. She set the phone down on the side table and then shifted so that she faced Crystal, a cold fury in her eyes. Crystal shrank back, bracing herself for her mother's anger. "Your behavior today, young lady, has been unacceptable right from the start. First you shook your bed, then you waste half of your breakfast." She crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeves. "You nearly break the door down coming into this house, and then later I hear you stomping around in your room, doing Heaven knows what." The tone of her voice became more outraged with every crime recounted. "Have you even finished your homework?" she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at Crystal. "Tell the truth. God is listening."

Crystal looked downwards, shame heating up her face. "No, I haven't," she admitted.

The corner of Mom's lip curled up. She looked smug, as though she derived satisfaction from Crystal's confession. "You have not finished your homework, and yet you come thundering down here, interrupting my conversation with Mrs. Wilcox, demanding to use the phone." She shook her head, unable to comprehend the scope of her child's misdeeds. "Now, with all of that in mind," she continued, leveling a penetrating stare directly at Crystal, "do you think that I should allow you to use the phone?"

The answer to this question was obvious, even to someone as slow on the uptake as Crystal. A response other than 'no' would be met with immediate punishment, worse that what was already coming her way. But she could not bring herself to say it, for doing so would only guarantee that she would not be allowed to talk to Clem until tomorrow at the earliest, and she had the unshakable notion that she had to do it tonight, or she would never get the chance to do so ever again. "Please, Mom," she begged, clasping her hands together in supplication. "I have to talk to Clem. It's really, really important."

That must have been the worst response that Crystal could have possibly given. Mom's expression turned ugly and red with rage, the lines on her forehead and by her mouth deepening as though someone had shaded them in with permanent marker. She rose from the couch and stormed over to Crystal, crossing the room in three quick strides. "Important?" she hissed through gritted teeth, looming over Crystal with her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Mrs. Wilcox and I are discussing a fundraiser that will raise money for the church! What could you and your friend have to talk about that's more important than that?"

Crystal opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, only an idiotic sounding "uh" that did nothing to help her case. What was there to say, anyway? When Mom was angry at her like this, she was like a heavy stone statue, unable to be moved matter how sensibly Crystal explained herself. And that was when Crystal could explain herself, which, in this case, she could not, for she did not understand how she knew Clem was planning on abandoning her, only that she did, and that the time she had left to stop him was running out. So she closed her mouth and cast her gaze down at Mom's plain brown flats, tears tight in throat.

Mom took that as a sign that Crystal had nothing further to say in her own defense. "Go to your room," she said, pointing over at the staircase. "You will not be calling anybody tonight. Your father and I will discuss whether or not you will be allowed to use the phone tomorrow."Indignation flared up within her at the punishment. Crystal bit her lip to keep it from erupting out of her mouth. "Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline, so be earnest and repent," Mom quoted, putting her hands on Crystal's shoulders, turning her so that she faced the stairs. "Now go upstairs and repent."

Robotically, Crystal marched her way up the steps and continued onward to her room. Upon entering the emotions she held at bay burst like water crashing through a poorly-constructed dam and she flung herself onto her bed, tears streaming down her face. She screamed out her frustration and despair into her blankets and pillows, weeping and swearing and not caring at all that God was listening to her say those terrible words. So what if He sent her to Hell? She figured that she would already be there once Clem left for good.

Crystal cried until her voice became too hoarse to sob anymore. She rolled onto her back and stared up at her ceiling with red, puffy eyes, the little glow-in-the-dark stars she had stuck up there offering her no comfort. What was she going to do now? Just lay there and wait for news of her best friend's departure? It wasn't like she could contact him telepathically from this far away- she'd gotten a terrible nosebleed when she had attempted simple mind-reading while sitting across from him at one of the Main Lodge's tables. How would she even know that Clem had gone? Would she feel it somewhere in her heart or in her head? Or would she not find out for sure until she arrived at Whispering Rock and discovered his absence?_ I might not even be able to go to Whispering Rock next summer,_ she thought, clutching at her sheets. _I know Mom was trying to convince Dad to send me to Church Camp instead, because of the whole brain-stealing thing..._

Thinking of Dad reminded her of something;that he had a slim grey cellphone that he used for 'business matters,' as Mom put it. Crystal had seen him talking on it late one night when she had been heading down to the kitchen for a glass of water. He'd been in the living room, pacing back and forth and smiling as he spoke to whoever it was on the other end. The way he had spoken to this mystery person had made Crystal so uncomfortable that she had crept back up to her room without her water. _I could use the cellphone to call Clem!_ She sat up quickly, grinning at the cleverness of her idea, though her face quickly fell once she realized that it had a pretty major flaw. _But what if he took it to work with him? Then I'll be back to square one._

_Dad's always forgetting things,_ a voice reminded her. This voice had spoken to her before, and it resembled her own, only more confident and much smarter. _He could have left it in the charger. You won't know unless you go and check._

Crystal mulled it over._ The charger is in his and Mom's room,_ she thought back, _I'd have to sneak in there._

_Well, sneak in there then,_ the much smarter version of herself replied.

_Mom will kill me if she catches me._

_Mom's too busy gabbing away to Mr. Wilcox to notice anything else_, the voice told her. _And besides, isn't Clem worth risking death for? It' s not like life will be worth living without him._

That was true enough. Crystal wiped the last vestiges of tears away from her eyes and got out of her bed, energized by her newfound determination. She walked over to the door and pushed it open just enough for her to slip through, glad that it did not creak like it occasionally did. Downstairs she could hear Mom still conversing with Mrs. Wilcox, her words unintelligible at this distance. Taking great care to be as quiet as possible, Crystal tiptoed down the hall towards her parent's bedroom. It was not far, right next to the bathroom across the hall, but Crystal's heart was pounding the entire time it took to get there. When she reached the door, she cast one last glance back towards the stairs before opening it and entering the room.

At first glance, the bedroom seemed more like her Mom's room than a space shared by both of her parents. The sheets on the immaculately made bed were a soft ivory with delicate threaded patterns that matched the pillow cases. Two dressers with a vanity between them took up the right side of the room, the tops of both of them adorned with white lace doilies and Mom's collection of angel figurines. A large, sliding-door closet took up the left side. Above the bed hung a single wooden cross affixed to the wall.

There were two nightstands on either side of the bed, a small antique lamp on each one. The cellphone that she was looking for lay on the left nightstand, plugged into its charger- just like the voice had told her. Crystal hurried over to it, hardly able to believe her luck. She picked it up and unplugged it, then sat herself down with her back against the bed. Her hands trembled as she flipped it open and punched the digits that made up Clem's number in, holding her breath all the while. The phone rang once, twice, and then, halfway into the third ring, somebody picked up.

There was a moment of complete silence. For some reason, whoever had picked up did not speak at all. All Crystal could hear on the other end was the soft sighs of breathing. "Hello?" she said, her voice still scratchy from her recent bout of crying. "Who's there?"

A gasp of surprise. "Crystal?" the person asked.

Relief swept over her, relaxing the tension in her shoulders. "Clem!" she yelled, so happy to hear from her best friend that she momentarily forgot she was supposed to be quiet. She swiveled her head towards the door, listening for the sound of her mother racing up the stairs. She heard no such thing, so she felt it was safe to continue. "Clem," she repeated in a much softer manner, pressing the phone to her ear. "Oh, Clem, it's so good to hear your voice!"

"Y-yeah, Crystal, it's...good to hear you too," Clem replied, letting out a quick laugh. There was an undercurrent of an emotion that Crystal could not identify within that laugh, but she was too happy to have him on the line to dwell on it. "What's, uh…" He cleared his throat and tried again. "So what's happening? Why'd you...pick this specific time to call?"

Crystal's face scrunched up in confusion. Why did he sound so surprised to hear from her? Hadn't his dad told him that she had called earlier? "I, um…" She drew a complete blank, for she had been so focused on getting into contact with Clem that she hadn't put any thought into what she would actually say to him. "I just needed to tell you something," she said, glancing up at the ceiling as though what she needed to tell him was written upon it. It wasn't.

Clem waited for her to continue, then laughed again, a weird edge to it. "Well, golly, Crystal, if you have something to tell me, than tell me!" he said, sounding almost nervous as he spoke. "You know I'm the worst mind-reader to ever live! Heck, I can barely understand my own thoughts most of the time, ha-ha!"

Crystal clutched her phone tighter in her hand. Clem's tone was so bitter, reminding her of the taste of the window cleaner that she and Clem had drank at camp. She could imagine his face twisting up the same way it had after taking the first sip of the vile drink they made. "I just wanted to tell you not…" she trailed off, unsure of how to phrase what she needed to say. An image of the bus from the dream, with its screeching door and black, swirling void within, popped into her mind. "Don't get on the bus!"

"Huh?" Clem said, taken aback by her strange outburst. "What bus? Crystal, what the heck are you talking about?"

"I know you're planning on leaving," Crystal said, her tone becoming more frantic, "and I called to tell you not to go!"

"What? L-leaving?" Clem stammered, sounding like he had been caught in the act of doing something he shouldn't. A stream of awkward chuckles followed the questions. Normally Crystal liked hearing him laugh, but this time it made her kind of mad for some reason. "What makes you think I'm going somewhere?"

Crystal didn't know what it was- it might have been all the stress she'd endured throughout the day- but the question made her lose it. "God-fucking dammit, I don't know!" She immediately regretted the swears the moment they flew out of her mouth, and she took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sorry, sorry Clem!" she said, bringing a hand up and swiping it across her forehead. "I didn't mean to get mad."

"That's okay Crystal," Clem said comfortingly. "I have that kind of effect on people."

"No, no, you're wonderful!" Crystal said, tears brimming in her eyes. Huh, she would have thought she'd run out of those by now. "I shook the bed this morning, and then at school I had a dream that you said a bunch of weird things to me. And then you got on this creepy bus." She held the phone away from her so that Clem would not hear the wet, mucusy sniff she inhaled through her nose. "My teacher let me call you after school so see if you were okay, but your dad picked up and said you weren't there? And I guess he didn't tell you I called? Then I tried to call you at home but my mom got super mad at me and told me I couldn't, so I sneaked into her room and took my Dad's cellphone and that's how I'm talking to you now and I'm just," she took in another shaky breath through her mouth, "so tired and scared."

"I, um, wow." Clem sounded kind of stunned. Crystal could not blame him- she had not meant to say half of what she said, but the words had tumbled out of her mouth like they had been pushed down a very steep hill. "Crystal...you don't have to worry about me getting on any bus."

Hope sparked within her. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," Clem replied. "You think I have money for bus fare? Not in this economy."

Crystal laughed at his joke, though it rang a little hollow. As glad as she was to hear that, she had the sense that Clem was still holding something back. "Clem...you would never actually leave forever, would you?"

Clem did not respond at first, and the short pause seemed to stretch longer than Crystal's jump rope. When he spoke next, his voice was subdued, almost numb. "I don't know, Crystal," he said, "would it really be so bad if I did?"

Crystal's heart dropped into her stomach. "It would be horrible, Clem!" she said, her hand flying to her throat. Her pulse fluttered wildly under her fingertips. "I...don't know what I would do if you just...left me behind," she whispered, the sheer horror of the idea making it difficult to speak.

"I think you'd be fine, Crystal," Clem said, his tone duller than the special scissors he and Crystal had to use at camp now that they'd been banned from sharp objects. " You're amazing. You make everyone so happy."

"You do that too," Crystal argued back. "You make me happy!" She gulped back the sob that threatened to escape. "Who would help me spread cheer?"

Clem scoffed. "Honestly? You'd probably do better at that without my gloomy self trailing after you."

That was the silliest thing Crystal had ever heard. "Clem, we're a team!" she said, pounding a fist on her leg to emphasize the word. "You write the best cheers ever, and I do the choreography! That's what we agreed on!"

"Yeah, that's true," Clem conceded reluctantly. "But Crystal," he sucked in a breath, then blew it out, "it's so...hard sometimes. To hang on...to stick around when it seems like everyone would be happier if you were gone."

There was so much that she wanted to say to that- she wanted to tell him all the ways he made her life better; how all the little things he did for her at camp kept her going when her brain ached so badly that she wanted to die, how his letters made her smile no matter how many times she'd read them, how all of her friends laughed at the jokes that he'd taught her, and how glad she was to have at least one person out there in the world who could understand her pain. But time was running short. Dad would be home any minute now, and Mom would eventually stop talking to Mrs. Wilcox and want to make sure that Crystal was repenting properly. "Clem," she began firmly, sitting up a little straighter, "I'm gonna write you a letter."

"Aw, Crystal…"

"I'm gonna write you a letter telling you how awesome you are, and how happy I am that you're my best friend in the whole world." A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away without thinking. "If you still want to leave after reading it...well, that's okay. I'll even send you money for the bus!" He made a strange noise at this, like he was choking on something. "But you have to promise me that you'll wait until after you read my letter before leaving. And that you'll let me say goodbye first."

Again, Clem lapsed into silence. The quiet went on for so long that Crystal thought he would just hang up on her. Then, "yeah, Crystal. I promise I won't...go anywhere, until I read your letter."

He did not sound particularly happy, but Crystal knew that he would never break a promise he had made to her. "Thank you, Clem," she said, wanting to stand up and jump for joy (that would have attracted her mother's attention though, so she remained seated). "I'll write you the best letter that I can!" From outside, she heard Dad's car pulling into the driveway. "I have to go now, my Dad's home. I love you so, so much, Clem!"

"I love you too, Crystal," Clem said, and she had no doubts that words were true. "I'm sure your letter is going to be great."

She blew a kiss at the phone before folding it up and placing it back on the nightstand. After plugging it in she quickly and quietly exited the room, barely able to keep herself from skipping down the hall as she snuck back to hers. _I'm gonna write Clem a letter that'll blow his socks off_, she thought as she went to her desk and pulled out a sheet of notebook paper and her best pen. _And then he'll know for sure that he's the best person ever, and then he won't want to leave!_

In pretty, purple print, Crystal began her letter with: Dear Clem (the best friend a gal could ever have!).

* * *

At the same time that Crystal was writing her letter, Clem Foote was shoving the letter that he had written to her under his bed, alongside a very large bottle of anti-freeze. He then laid down on his bed and closed his eyes, her sweet, sad voice still ringing in his ears._ It won't take that long for her letter to get here_, he thought, _I can hang on until then._


End file.
